Chatterbox, 1906 Part 71

'Jack,' she remarked, presently, 'I think yours must be a very sad secret, for do you remember how I heard dear Goody crying as she was kneeling? She said, "Jack, my poor boy! Lord, have mercy upon him!"

Then, sometimes at night, when she thinks I am asleep, she sighs _so_ heavily, especially when she is saying her prayers.'

On hearing this, Jack suddenly threw himself at full length on the sand, burying his face on his arms. Much startled, Estelle gazed at him in wonder and sympathy. What had upset him so greatly? Why did Goody sigh over him? It was a bewildering puzzle to her, who knew Jack to be the kindest fellow in the world. She could not bear to see him so grieved.

It was her fault. Why had she said a word which could hurt him?

'Oh, Jack!' she cried, putting her hand on his shoulder, her voice full of self-reproach, 'I ought not to have told you. I am so sorry! Do forgive me, dear, kind Jack. I wish I could do something for you, Jack--I do wish I could. But for Goody's nursing and care and all your kindness, I should have died.'

'So you would, Missie,' he said, sitting up and drawing the back of his hand across his eyes. He sat for some moments in silence, his eyes on the sands, then rising to his feet, he murmured:' After all, it is a life for a life.'

'What did you say?' asked Estelle, mystified.

He made no answer. He could not tell her that if one person had already lost his life through his means he had saved another's life, which, but for him, must have perished. He was not at all clear himself on the merits of the case; neither was it one to discuss with a child.

'Come and see the last of these caves,' he said, rousing himself. 'It is called the Mermaid's Cave, perhaps because it is the prettiest of them all. It has an echo you may like to hear.'

A very narrow pa.s.sage connected the Cave of the Silver Sand with the Mermaid's Cave, and a pool of water filled it which reached to Jack's knees. Before entering it, Jack lighted a candle-end he had brought in his pocket, and put it into Estelle's hand.

'Hold it up high as we go along,' he said. 'I shall have to carry you; the water is too deep for you to wade through, but the cave is worth seeing as we step into it.'

And so it was. Estelle uttered a cry of delight as its beauties broke upon her. The roof was white with stalact.i.tes of the strangest and weirdest shapes, which reflected the light of the candle from their wet surfaces. A stream of water was flowing silently down one side of the sandy floor and into the pool they had crossed, which Jack told her was called the 'Rift.'

'I'll show you one of the wonders of this cave,' he said, as he drew her to one side. 'Now listen.'

In a clear, rich voice he sang a few notes, and in a moment a burst of harmony broke out, full and grand as the organ in a cathedral. The sweet tones echoed among the stalact.i.tes, lingering as if loth to die.

Estelle gasped. She had never heard anything like it. 'Again, again!'

she whispered.

Once more the sailor's rich voice rang through the silent caves, and once more the echoes took up the chord in a flood of melody which, surged over their heads as the little girl and the sailor stood motionless, listening till the last tones trembled into silence. Even then they did not speak for some moments.

'I could listen to it for ever,' said Estelle, drawing a deep breath.

'We must not stay for any more now,' replied Jack. 'The tide will soon be on the turn, so we must move to the tune of homeward bound. _We_ may be late--the tide will _not_ be.'

'Will you sing to me some day?' begged the little girl, as she was carried through the Rift into the Cave of the Silver Sand. 'You have such a good voice.'

'That's as may be, Missie. I haven't much heart for singing now, though I used to be a grand one at it before---- '

He stopped, and they went on in silence.

'Dear Jack,' said Estelle, earnestly, as they came out of the gorge on to the beach, 'when I am quite big and old, you will let me help you to be happy again, won't you? Perhaps I shall be able to put all your unhappiness away then, and Goody's too.

Jack shook his head with a sigh.

'There are some things which can never be done away with,' he said, sadly. 'We cannot undo them, and their consequences will last as long as we live. Happy for us if they don't drag us down for ever. But thank you all the same, little Missie, for it's your kind heart that makes you wish it.'

(_Continued on page 234._)

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Jack took Estelle in his arms and made his way to the cave."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Don't go--don't go!'"]

THE GIANT OF THE TREASURE CAVES.

(_Continued from page 231._)

CHAPTER XIII.

'Goody,' said Estelle, as they sat round the blazing logs, 'why did Madame Bricolin call Jack the Giant of the Hospice de la Providence? I don't think it half so nice a name as the Giant of the Treasure Caves.

There is something romantic, like a fairy story, in a treasure cave.

Don't you think so, Jack?'

The sailor was standing up to separate the nets he was about to mend.

They lay in a tangled heap at his feet, and it looked to Estelle as if he would never have room enough to spread them out, large as the kitchen was. Yet he must do so if he wanted to find the torn places. No such difficulty presented itself to Jack's mind, however. He laughed as he drew himself up to his full height of six feet seven inches.

'I haven't read many fairy stories, Missie,' he said; 'but treasure caves, such as ours, don't figure in them, I fancy. Our treasure is mostly smugglers' stuff. Some day I will take you to see them, and some of them will astonish you.'

'Oh, yes. Do take me. I love caves. I know of some---- ' She stopped, hesitating. 'I am sure I do--but where? Did we go to some once?'

'Only those we went to to-day.'

'And they are the treasure caves?'

'Yes; but the real thing is below, where you have not yet grown strong enough to go.'

Little did he guess under what circ.u.mstances he would show her that mysterious cave, the entrance to which was his secret.

'But,' went on Estelle, 'you have not told me why Madame Bricolin calls you a giant---- '

'I suppose,' answered his mother, with a glance of pride at her tall son, 'anybody would call him a big man. Even in England he would not be thought _small_.' Mrs. Wright laughed. 'And in France, where the men are mostly short--no height at all, to speak of--why, he is a mighty man! So Mere Bricolin calls him a giant.'

'He _is_ a giant,' said Estelle, looking at Jack, admiringly. 'But why of the Hospice de la Providence?'

'Because we live in the Hospice, dearie. It does seem more natural to call a man by the house he lives in.'

'Was this ever a hospital?' exclaimed Estelle, in surprise. She did not like the idea at all.

'It was some years ago,' said Jack, his foot in the twine, his needle ready to begin work. 'You wouldn't think it, would you? It is a vast deal more cosy and comfortable now than it ever was then.'

'How sick people were ever got up here I can't imagine,' observed Mrs.

Wright, knitting vigorously. 'I know I'm never too ready to trudge up and down that steep path, and I'm a deal better than many of them poor folk were.'

'A bit lazy, eh, Mother?' replied Jack, smiling. 'We were glad enough of this shelter when we first came.'